Belonging
by Sweet-Satura
Summary: After their escape from Crait and during their months of exile, many things changed. Of course with the losses they had suffered everybody had to take up bigger responsibilities and roles, which Rey accepted without protesting. At first it did feel like she was part of a team. Now it all seemed like a far away memory. [No spoilers/leaks from The Rise of Skywalker]


**Phew! I managed to post that one right before I see The Rise of Skywalker. It was more challenging to write than "Longing", but it was definitely an interesting experience. It follows "Longing" but can be read on its own.**

**Post-TLJ - Contains nothing from The Rise of Skywalker.**

**Enjoy! :D**

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_The sound of a shuttle engine, tearing the air and her eardrums in a loud deafening vibration.  
__The harsh hot sand ascending in waves, burning her skin and irritating her eyes.  
__The firm, almost painful grip of a large and greasy hand on her upper arm.  
__The deep endless blue of a spotless sky.  
__Come back!_

The high pitched voice died down as soon as her consciousness returned, leaving Rey with the usual noises of night time peace and her panting breath. Another nightmare. Always the same. She rubbed her eyes and let them adjust to the darkness, strands of hair matted by a fair amount of tossing and turning clinging to her face. In a quick, mechanical move she sit up and threw a series of glances around, examining her surroundings as alert as a wild animal. Nothing out of the ordinary, it was indeed just a bad dream.

Rey sighed, her lips curled into a faint smile. She had been away from home for so long, with no one to steal her bread and water and yet she still did that. What used to be a necessary habit for survival had turned into instinct over time. Even in a setting like this one, on the complete opposite of the spectrum compared to Jakku this all too familiar rush of adrenaline would kick in. In a way it was justified, she was technically still in danger.

Heck, the whole galaxy was in danger.

The bed sheets flew away with one swift motion and her feet touched the cold ground, relieving some of the heat from her trembling body. Being jolted from slumber her heart was pounding hard and fast in her chest, pumping hot blood to her aching temples. For a while she remained there taking slow deep breaths, enveloped in the blue hue of those lights at the bottom of the door. The ones that lit up all rooms and hallways at night. The promise of more sleep brought a drowsy grin on her face. It was well needed after all the work she had put into their new hideout, making sure it would still keep all of them safe for another couple of days. With the threat of the First Order and their partisans still looming on top of their heads, she just couldn't allow herself to slack and not participate in the effort with all her might. To pull hours upon hours of work a day towards the security of all in here was the least she could do. She wasn't on her own anymore. It was worth the soreness and fatigue.

Her furred mouth called for a glass of fresh water. With caution for the low ceiling she stood up and took her blanket with her, wrapping it tight on top of that strange night suit Leia had given her. To save on energy they kept heating to a minimum at night. It all reminded her of the desert. Suffocating during the day, freezing once the sun disappeared below the horizon.

A push of a button later she was outside her unit, walking her way to the nearby kitchen in soundless steps. As she expected, most of the rebels were sound asleep in their quarters while the few on night watch politely nodded at her, not a single expression on their worn out faces. The morale was low these days. Little was going according to plan with those unwelcomed surprises, adding up day after day on top of already hard projects. Her pace slowed down as she remembered this terrible afternoon. The blizzard had hit them out of the blue in its full force, ruining several hours of work. Mechanisms gripped, parts flew off and what should have been their new defense system lay useless under a layer of snow. Somehow the memory caused the red patches on her skin to burn again, yet another reminder that the harsh taïga of this damn planet wouldn't let them have it so easy.

The automatic lights of the kitchen took her fragile eyes by surprise, and it's half blind that Rey made her way past scattered chairs to the sink. She took a glass from the pile next to her and filled it to the brim with cold water, before bringing it to her lips impatiently. A satisfied sight escaped them after the first few gulps. The subtle and fresh aroma of pines had infused into the melted snow. Something she would miss when they have to leave this hideout behind. This biome would screw with them, but it would at least compensate with a stable source of water and food.

Her back resting on the wall she stared absent-mindedly at her drink. They had survived another day. Would they be as lucky tomorrow? There was no way to tell if this peace would last. With each rising sun and moon the threat of being found and eliminated grew.

Pouring herself another glass, her nose picked another aromatic smell. The one of those little red fruits she had been craving for several weeks now. Following the tangy scent she was lead to the large cupboard at the corner of the kitchen, the one they used to keep most of their basic ingredients and utensils. Upon opening the door however, no sign of the sweet treat. The smell was coming from those baskets piled on the lower shelf, bearing crimson stains. Rey heaved a disappointed sight as her belly begged for the craving to be sated. She didn't remember Finn telling her they had found berries during the last hunt for food, and by the looks of it she'd have to wait until the next one.

Resigned to her fruitless fate, she gulped her drink empty and headed to the sink. The ice cold water running on her rash covered hands as she washed the glass made her hiss in pain. It was only for a moment though, a small necessary minute of discomfort towards the comfort of the whole community.

Her mind shifted to the dishes spread all over the table behind her. There were enough plates for five or six people there, along with dirty remnants of a nice moment shared between brothers and sisters in arms. Her lips pursed as she forced her focus back on her task. When was the last time she had a proper dinner with her friends? A nice moment filled with hearty laughs and the joyful beeping of BB-8 rolling at her feet? Rey searched her memory. The few bribes she could find told her that such an event happened a long time ago.

She put the glass back to its rightful place and adjusted the blanket on her shivering form. No need to stay in here any longer. With furtive steps she exited the kitchen and headed back to bed.

A cold breeze ran down the hallways, blowing through her hair as she stared down at her feet. In the haze of her mind a myriad of thoughts had bloomed, harder to repress as she got closer to the entrance of her unit. After they escaped Crait and during their months of exile, many things changed. Of course with the losses they had suffered everybody had to take up bigger responsibilities and roles, which Rey accepted without protesting, and at first it did feel like she was part of a team. Together they turned this abandoned hideout into something inhabitable and safe, they went hunting for food and ended up battling each other with snowballs, they flew above the white vast landscape that was their new home, and so many other things they shared during the little free time they had. Now it all seemed like a far away memory. She was happy that Finn had beautifully blossomed into "rebel scum" as he would say. She was happy to see the legacy and will of Leia burn bright among these brave people, but to see and not experience brought resentment in her heart over time.

Her and her companions had grown much further than she thought. Much more than she wanted to believe.

The door of her unit closed behind her, the troubled, bothering thoughts settling deeper into her mind now that she was back in her own space. Perhaps the greater change had to do with her. Perhaps the difference between them lied in what she could do that her friends simply couldn't. Poe, Rose and so many others had heard her tale way before they met in person, heard about how she would bring the last Jedi into the ranks of the Resistance to defeat the First Order and bring peace to the galaxy. Somehow she did succeed in bringing Luke to them at the very end, but the payoff was bitter. The Resistance failed and resorted to flight, while in spite of herself she took on the title of last Jedi.

Rey collapsed on her bed, her forehead coming to rest on both her palms at the sound of a pained chuckle. The last Jedi… Her mission was to go on Ahch-To to bring back Luke Skywalker, not to become a Jedi. During her few days there Luke just found her interesting enough to give her the keys to understanding the Force, a name she at last could put on that mysterious presence living deep inside her soul. But the more she remained by his side, the more the ton of questions that came to her buried the very few answers she got. As these days went by, it became clear that the legend roaming this island with her, the great Jedi knight and the hero she thought the galaxy needed so badly was just a man who had buried his head in sand, burdened by his own mistakes.

Now Luke Skywalker was gone, and Rey of the Resistance was born. She never wanted to become a Jedi, but here she was: the miracle desert girl capable to channel the Force, a promise of victory, a vessel of hope.

The last Jedi.

Rey scoffed at these words crossing her mind. How could one be a righteous Jedi if they so easily answered the call to the dark side? She had been warned, yet she rushed headlong to that cave thinking blindly she could find the missing answers about her parents, only to be tricked by this damn place and its mirror to nothing but her own reflection. How could a true Jedi fall to their knees the second they don't get what they hope for? Then in her dismay, in this time of need she went for the person she shouldn't have gone for to share her feelings.

She had turned to Kylo Ren, to the enemy.

To think about how spontaneously she had opened to him, how she tried to reach out to him and bring him closer to the light… How foolish. Kylo Ren was a monster of darkness. He had willingly chosen the path to the dark side. She thought that it was possible to turn him, and in one single evening no less. That's where hope had led her in the end. The hope to bring back Ben Solo only resulted in the ascension of Kylo Ren to the position of Supreme Leader. She had brought an even bigger threat to life and it was now rampaging throughout the galaxy, spreading its corrupt seeds. Quite the opposite of what a Resistance member should have done.

That lump in her throat burned bright, no matter how hard she tried to swallow it. She was part of the Resistance, fighting for a noble cause hand in hand with her friends, her new family and somehow it just didn't work. This was supposed to be the belonging she had sought for so long. Why did it feel like she was everything but belonging? Where the hell was her place in this galaxy and what was she supposed to do? All around her, wherever she went there would be no one to answer. No one to understand. After all this time and all her efforts, there was just her and the others.

Loneliness.

Her eyelids closed on a pool of tears, their overflow running down her cheeks in warm drops, pouring in unison with the sobs tearing from her throat. Ben… No. Kylo Ren was right. She was a nobody. She had always been a nobody coming from nowhere with nothing to call hers. Her existence was one of a shadow, on which the ghost of a long gone ideal had latched onto. They all saw her as the bringer of their salvation. Well… what a jedi hero she was! A desert rat hiding behind a light saber.

In her world of darkness she let the tears flow free, knowing well enough it wouldn't bring her relief. She had cried herself to sleep many nights taking refuge under that carcass rotting on the sand dune. The pain would always come back. To think it would still follow her, no matter the time or place or company… If all things happening to her in this world were indeed willed by the Force, then it worked in cruel ways.

In between two sobs her ears perceived something unusual. A low and raspy noise had filled the room, muffled as if muted by distance, coming and going in a slow and regular pattern. Her senses switched further to fight or flight mode when a familiar vertigo took hold of her and the warm embrace of her blanket suddenly became unbearable. Oh, she had a bad feeling about this. She opened one eye cautiously, and then the other and what she saw just confirmed her fear.

The Force bond. That damned and inexplicable bridge between her and _him_ had opened again after months of complete absence.

Rey stood up abruptly to the sound of a ringing tone, her feet almost tangling in her blanket as she did so, and froze in place. One look to the right. Another to the left. Nothing was coming. She brought a hand to her bosom as she caught her breath, identifying the source of the noise as this small device resting on the center of the table. Upon closer inspection, it appeared to be just a compact holoprojector that would remain totally inoffensive as long as she didn't press any button.

After a couple of seconds the ringing finally stopped, and it's relieved that Rey took time to evaluate the unknown surroundings. The overall style was opulent and clean, far from the aged look of their hideout. Large panels of silver chrome contrasted with the matte black of the walls and velvet curtains covering triple glazed windows, framing the table and its chairs in near perfect symmetry. The room itself was bathing in a faint halo of light, their source seemingly coming from the corners of the ceiling. So it was night time here, as well.

Her ears perceived the raspy noise again, and upon the chance for closer listening she perceived a deep, nasal snoring. It seemed to be coming from behind that heavily guarded door on the right wall. An intuition as to who could be sleeping behind that door slithered into her thoughts, and even though she didn't really like the sound of it, something drew her to go and see for herself. She tippy toed towards the door, on the lookout at all times for any possible threat around her, and placed herself in front of the lock pad. No surprises there: to open it, one needed the code.

Her instinct guided her open hand in front of the pad. If the Force brought her here, then it could deal with that kind of formality. As her fingers twitched the familiar sensation buzzed throughout her body. Eyes deadlocked on her target she took long calm breaths, focusing on what she couldn't see beneath the number keys. When the buzzing concentrated into her palm she closed her hand into a fist as if to capture it, and soon enough the awaited green light flashed before her. The door opened slowly and Rey hurried in, satisfied with her successful trick.

She found herself in a barely lit corridor, skimpy enough to only let in a few people at a time. Right in front of her was a simple sliding door, half open to reveal a wide bathroom with a huge bath tub and access to actual water, a true luxury for the desert scavenger. Oh, all the things she'd give to experience a warm bath for the first time!

The sound of wood cracking caused her to pin her back against the wall, her heart leaping at the thought of being spotted by _him_. She heard ruffling, then more snoring. After a couple seconds of stillness, Rey moved with the discretion of a feline past the corner of the corridor and found herself in what could only be the Supreme Leader's private quarters. Her jaw dropped as she took in the grand size of this room and how empty it looked with the little furniture it had. A large wardrobe stood on her left, surrounded by smaller pairs of drawers and basic storage units, all colored in a palette of dark grey and black. In front of her in the far back of the room was a magnificent bed, more than large enough for one person and framed by heavy black curtains, probably for privacy. To her surprise, the man responsible for the loud snoring wasn't lying in the seemingly very cozy bed sheets.

Instead, Kylo Ren was sleeping slumped on an old fashioned wooden desk, his head resting on his crossed arm while the other was resting on his lap. He certainly had fallen asleep on the spot, while working on his Supreme Leader paperwork. Yet upon studying his unconscious frame, Rey silently gasped. It had been such a long time and he was… in a pitiful state. The locks of hair framing his face were tangled in thick patches of knots. His cheeks once full and soft were now sunken in and left unshaven. Deep dark circles lined eyes whose restlessness under closed lids betrayed a disturbed slumber. A glance to his numb limbs was enough to confirm he also had lost weight.

Her gut clenched as this miserable image sank in. Ben was a mere shadow of himself, plagued by the kind of exhaustion that would require much more than just a night of peaceful sleep to fix.

How familiar.

Her attention got drawn by all these papers. They were everywhere, scattered all around him on the floor and piled messily on the desk. It was strange. Even Leia with the near obsolete technology available at the hideout had no need for paper. The First Order without a doubt had access to the best machines and communications there could be in the galaxy, so why the Supreme Leader, of all people in this organization, would use such an old fashioned medium?

Curiosity got the better of her. She had to discover the answer to that question. Still paying attention to Ben's sleepy state she reached for the closest paper and grabbed it without a sound. She turned it around to reveal… sketches?

Rey was taken aback. Who knew Ben could draw, let alone draw that well? That smudgy piece of paper easily had a dozen pencil sketches of hands etched on its surface, drawn with amazing details in all kinds of positions. A small, appreciative smile appeared on her face. Rey didn't know much about art as such discipline simply didn't exist on Jakku, but it didn't take an expert to see that there was great skill and patience behind every line. It was truly impressive. The way fingers curled with grace, the thin lines in an open palm, hands outstretched and fingertips touching…

Hands… Fingertips… Touching…?

It didn't take long for her brain to dig up this moment from the depths of her memory and play it on repeat. No… He couldn't have been thinking about that moment. It couldn't have been that memorable for him. Her fingers trembled, creasing the paper on both sides. A crazy, impossible theory had just bloomed into her head, ringing louder and louder as her eyes fixed the drawing and the artist behind it. There was only one way to verify it.

She advanced to the desk, papers sliding on the ground upon crossing paths with her pressed footsteps. Her intuition had spoken true: these messy piles on which Ben was fast asleep were composed of more drawings, some achieved, some smeared with thick grey lines, blank papers inserted in between. In their instinctive inspection her fingers searched, turned over, lifted, and twisted her stomach further into a knot.

The First Order was nowhere to be seen.

But _she _was everywhere.

At least a dozen portraits of her were lying on this table. From different angles, in various positions and attires, those Reys stared back at her all with that same expression. A smile. A soft, genuine smile underlining a pair of soft, kind eyes.

Her jaw dropped. These incarnations of her looked so happy, so… unreal. She honestly couldn't remember if she ever smiled so truly in her life. Intuitively she gathered those portraits and held them under her curious gaze, flipping between them like the pages of a book and marveling in silence. These were… incredible. There was a strange beauty behind those fine lines of ink and carbon. No hate nor lust, but something simple and delicate, sweet and refreshing. How freedom would taste.

She glanced over at Ben, still snoring like an engine. It was almost too crazy and far-fetched to be real. Did he, the Supreme Leader of the evil devouring the galaxy really draw all of this himself? Was that… how she looked like through his eye?

Her heartbeat quickened the more the pages flickered, and soon enough she reached the last one: a warped piece, strangely messy and deeply creased on the sides. The ink was smooth and fine on some parts, thin precise lines meeting in ways she had spotted on other drawings, but other seemed to have bled out and bloomed into round grey stains. Her fingertips brushed over the rings as her eyes watered.

Ben… had shed tears. Tears had erased most of that portrait of her, but had left intact a pair of outstretched hands and half of a face that held more hope in its features than the whole Resistance combined.

Rey held the bunch of drawings against her chest, tears flowing down her cheeks as her head tilted backwards. The paper wrinkled under the strength of her embrace as she suffocated in her silent sobs. It hurt, yet it felt so good.

Ben had never let her go. He never let her go.

A groan rumbling deep in Ben's chest shook her out of her crying causing her to take a few steps backwards. He stirred onto the desk before drowsily raising his head up, his wild locks falling on his face as he did so. The crack of bone echoed in the empty of the room as he stretched his numb limbs one by one, finishing with his stiff neck and knuckles. He let out a loud yawn and got ready to stand up, only to be stopped dead in his tracks by the unexpected sight.

His eyes were bloodshot from sleep deprivation, struggling hard to remain open. Distraught, he fixed the scavenger girl. "Rey?" He muttered, tilting his head. Rey parted her lips, but the words never came. Both her body and tongue were petrified in front of the man she was truly not prepared to face.

Ben rubbed his eyes, his legs bumping into the furniture in the haste of standing up. "Rey, is that you?" His voice broke down with every syllable.

Her heart grew heavier as the tears kept pouring. After all that happened between them, what was she supposed to tell him? A part of her wanted to slap him, to punish him one way or another for becoming the very thing he had killed right in front of her, to _save her life_. But that other part of her, the usually quieter one, was now so deeply upset to see him like this. It urged her to go and embrace him, to tell him that everything would be alright, that it wasn't too late, but she just couldn't do that. Not now.

Her gaze lowered to the small pile of drawings she was holding, and upon seeing Ben awake a horrible thought crossed her mind. Even if it melted her heart and brought red to her cheeks, the number one in the First Order using his number one enemy as his muse and inspiration was a terrible thing. If her presence had not stirred him from his slumber, then who knows who could've caught him painting instead of tending to his supreme duties.

If his men found out about these drawings… they would execute him. Supreme Leader or not.

The thought of Ben dying drained all colors from her face. To lose the only person who truly cared about her, the real her, would be unbearable. As he stood before her he was no Supreme Leader in the flesh but only in that title he took for himself. Sooner or later his weaknesses would become much more apparent and ill willed people would take advantage of the situation to get rid of the imposter.

But as much as she wanted it, she couldn't protect him, not on her own.

A slow, steady vibration filled the air around her, creeping from her fingertips onto her skin as her inner voice cursed abundantly. With bare seconds left Rey desperately tried to gather enough strength to spit out words before the Force decided to separate them once again.

Her hand outstretched in his direction. "Ben!"

"Rey, wait!" He shouted, lunging towards her.

"Ben- !"

The handful of papers fell on the floor where her feet had just stood, almost causing him to slip as he stepped on them. He searched all around, but she was nowhere to be found. Exhausted and upset, Ben Solo fell to his knees and gathered up his pieces of art, the only things he had left to remember the woman he thought he would never see again.

Her words got lost in the empty as the familiar buzzing of the force bond faded into silence. She was back in the cold tiny space that was her pod, her arms still crossed against her heaving chest. A groan escaped her lips as she went for her bed, her fists crashing unwound on the covers out of pure frustration. In the past the damn Force would connect both of them at the most embarrassing and inappropriate moments, but this time… This time it was like the Force had planned things meticulously, like it was meant to happen in order to teach them a lesson and indeed, in the span of a few minutes she learnt something significant: Neither she nor Ben were happy or content. Both were alone and miserable in their own way and somehow, to be aware of this was comforting.

She wrapped herself in the warm covers after a wave of goosebumps crept on her skin, her arms hugging her knees as she sighed. In the end, she couldn't blame the Force. It had allowed her to see for her own eyes that Ben cared for her. Not for the Jedi, not for the Jakku scavenger, but for the young woman in the search of her identity and purpose.

Somewhere in the galaxy, beyond the howling winds and the oceans of snow, the future of all was in motion. The First Order and the war couldn't last forever. Rey hoped that one day no more obstacles, no more twisted intentions would stand in between her, friendship, love and the soul that the Force had destined to be her equal, the presence killing her lifelong loneliness. Maz's words rang true. Belonging was ahead, and if she kept hoping it would come in time.

Because she mattered to someone out there.

She was not alone.


End file.
